#bach and arthur

[luvthedare]

he wants that cookie so effing bad

[whereforarthur]

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

Pairing: ItalianBach x Gf!reader x ArthurTv

Summary: Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: PG-13

Category: Fluff with implied smut and teasing

*****

“A love triangle is a threesome delayed.” ― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

The next day, you found yourself in the podcast studio with Isaac and Arthur, the memory of the night before playing like a sexy highlight reel in your mind. You couldn't help but blush as you thought about the things you'd done, the things you'd let them do to you. The tension between you was palpable, an invisible thread of desire that no one else could see.

Isaac leaned into the microphone, his voice smooth and professional. "Welcome back to 'The Bach and Arthur Podcast', today we dive into the wild world of fanfiction, smut and imagines that will make you scream minus the s." He glanced at you with a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "We've stumbled upon some… interesting fanfics, to say the least."

Your cheeks flushed at his not-so-subtle nod to last night's escapades. Arthur, rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Interesting indeed," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt a thrill run through you, knowing what that really meant.

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, the tension in your chest unbearable. "You guys really read all the ones I found?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Arthur's hand found yours under the table, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Well, not all of them," Isaac admitted with a chuckle. "But enough to get an idea." His eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned closer to the microphone. "And let me tell you, some of those writers have wild imaginations."

Arthur coughed, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "I, uh, didn't read all of them," he said, averting his gaze. "Some of them were…pretty intense."

You leaned over, whispering in his ear, "Don't be shy, Arthur. They were all about you."

Arthur's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "I know," he murmured back, his voice barely audible. "It's just…it's a lot to take in."

Isaac’s laughter was low and knowing, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're telling me," he said, his voice filled with a teasing lilt. "Some of those scenarios were…inventive, to say the least." He cleared his throat, his gaze shifting back to the microphone. "But hey, if it gets the fans excited, I'm all for it."

Arthur shot Isaac a look that was half embarrassed, half annoyed, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a reluctant smile. "Guys," he started, his voice thick with good-natured protest, "you're making it sound like we're some kind of…"

"Smut kings?" Isaac supplied, his voice filled with a low chuckle. "Well, I suppose we are, in a way." He leaned closer to the microphone, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But let's be honest, we couldn't do it without the imagination of our wonderful fans. So, to all of you who've written those steamy stories about us, we just want to say…" He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Thank you."

"We really do appreciate it," you added, trying to keep your voice light and breezy despite the heat that was still simmering in your core.

Isaac leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long. "Yes, especially when it leads to…let's call them 'inspired' nights." He winked at you, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Isaac leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "You know, we should thank you for finding those fanfics," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "They really got our creative juices flowing, if you know what I mean."

Arthur's blush deepened, his eyes flicking to yours before darting away again. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, knowing that the reality was far better than any fanfic could ever capture.

You couldn't help but smile at the memory, the heat from last night's tryst still lingering in the air between you. "Well, I'm always happy to do my part for the podcast," you replied, your voice a soft purr. "And for our dedicated fanbase."

Isaac leaned over, kissing you softly on the cheek, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. "You're incredible."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, a sense of pride that you'd been able to push past your own boundaries and give into your desires. "Thank you," you murmured, looking up at him with a shy smile. "It was… an experience I'll never forget."

Isaac, ever the tease, leaned back in his chair, his eyes dancing with amusement. "So, which ones are we going to talk about today?" He looked at you expectantly, his voice dropping a notch. "I'm sure our dear audience is dying to know."

You bit your lip, trying to keep the smirk from your face as you handed him a printed stack of papers. "Why don't you start with 'Submissive ArthurTv Smut'?" you suggested, your voice a low purr.

Isaac's eyes lit up with excitement as he scanned the title. He cleared his throat dramatically before beginning to read, "Arthur looked so gone with each bounce, his chest rising and falling so dramatically with each breath, his eyes half lidded and completely dumbified, the way his lips twitched slightly as though he needed to say something but couldn't between all his high whimpers and moans which had you racing towards your climax."

Arthur's cheeks turned a shade of red that could only be rivaled by a ripe tomato. His eyes remained glued to his lap, his free hand fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him, his embarrassment palpable. But it was the memory of those whimpers, those desperate, needy sounds that you had coaxed from him the night before, that had you squirming in your seat.

"And in this one," Isaac continued, his voice thick with amusement, "Arthur is being…shall we say, quite vocal." He cleared his throat again, his eyes gleaming as he read, "Arthur's cries grew louder, his voice hoarse from begging, his body shaking uncontrollably."

"Okay, okay," Arthur interrupted, his voice a little too high-pitched. "I think we've had enough of that one." He coughed, trying to regain his composure. "Let's, uh, let's move on."

Isaac chuckled, setting the paper aside with a smirk. "Alright, Arthur, don't get too shy on us."

You couldn't help but giggle, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all over again. Here you were, in a podcast studio, talking about fanfics that had gotten you so hot and bothered that you'd ended up in a threesome with your boyfriend and his best friend. You glanced at Arthur, who was still blushing furiously, and gave his hand a squeeze.

*****

"Alright, alright," you said, shuffling through the papers. "Let's go with 'The Unexpected Threesome'." Arthur's eyes shot up to meet yours, a silent plea for mercy. But you just smirked, knowing how much he enjoyed the real thing.

Isaac leaned in, his voice taking on a dramatic tone as he began to read. "Arthur and I were just hanging out, watching TV, when suddenly…" He paused for effect, letting the anticipation build. "You walked in wearing nothing but a silk robe that barely covered your gorgeous body."

You felt your heart race as he recounted the fictional version of last night's events. The room seemed to get hotter with every word, and you had to resist the urge to fan yourself with the papers. Arthur's hand inching towards yours, was now trembling slightly, and you knew he was fighting the same battle as you were.

"And before we knew it," Isaac went on, his eyes never leaving the page, "we were all tangled up in the sheets, exploring each other's bodies like it was the last night on Earth."

The words hung in the air, thick with innuendo and unspoken truth. The room felt smaller, the air charged with the electricity of the shared secret. You couldn't help but remember the feel of Arthur's hands on your skin, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered dirty things in your ear. You glanced at Arthur, who was now staring at the table with a pained expression, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of his hand.

"So, what happens next?" you asked, your voice a little too eager. You knew you were pushing it, but the thrill of being so close to the edge was intoxicating. "In the fanfic," you clarified, your own voice a little raspy. "What happens next in the fanfic?"

Isaac looked up from the page, his eyes dark with desire. "Well, it seems our dear Arthur is quite the eager participant in this little tale."

Arthur's eyes snapped up to meet yours, a silent question in his gaze. You gave him a mischievous smile, enjoying the way he squirmed under the spotlight.

Isaac raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the discomfort he'd caused Arthur. "Ah, yes," he said, looking back down at the paper. "Arthur seems to have some…special talents with his tongue."

You felt a blush creep up your neck as you remembered all too fondly Arthur's skilled mouth on your body, the way he'd worshipped you with such passion and need. The memory was so vivid it was almost as if you could feel the sensations all over again. You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the podcast instead of the ache building between your legs.

"And it gets even better," Isaac read on, his voice a low growl. "The author really has a knack for detail." His eyes slid over to Arthur, who was now sweating slightly, his discomfort clear. You couldn't resist the urge to lean over and whisper in his ear, "Remember how good it felt when you did that?"

Arthur's eyes snapped to yours, a mix of surprise and arousal in their depths. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he murmured back, his voice tight. You just grinned and nodded, your pulse racing.

Isaac, ever the showman, picked up on the shift in the room's atmosphere and leaned back in his chair, watching the two of you with an amused smirk. "Looks like we've hit a nerve," he said, his voice a little too knowing. "Or should I say, a particularly sensitive spot?"

You couldn't help but remember that exact spot all too fondly, the way Arthur had touched you so tenderly yet with such insatiable hunger. The way his tongue had danced around your clit, teasing and coaxing until you'd shattered under his ministrations. You felt your cheeks heat up and a little tremor run through your body at the memory.

The podcast conversation flowed around the fanfics, discussing plotlines and characterizations, but all you could think about was the way Isaac's cock had felt sliding into you, the sound of Arthur's grunts of pleasure as he took you from behind. You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too broadly, your mind replaying the vivid images like a private porn reel.

As the podcast episode drew to a close, Isaac leaned back in his chair, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Well, folks, that's all the time we have for today," he announced, his hand giving your thigh a squeeze beneath the table. "But don't worry, we've got plenty more to talk about in the future."

Arthur nodded, his own expression a mix of amusement and satisfaction. "Thanks for tuning in," he added, his eyes never leaving yours. "And remember, if you've got any fanfics you think we should read, hit us up on social media."

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. "Thank you, everyone," you managed to say, your voice surprisingly steady. "We love reading them almost as much as you love writing them."

With that, Isaac hit the button to end the podcast, the sudden silence in the booth feeling deafening. Arthur visibly relaxed, letting out a shaky sigh as he leaned back in his chair. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his relief.

"You two are going to be the death of me," Arthur murmured, his voice still a little hoarse. He playfully swiped at you with his free hand, the tension between you three now a living, breathing entity in the room.

"Is that a challenge?" you asked, your own voice teasing as you leaned back in your chair. You could feel the thrill of the secret, the excitement of the shared experience, and the anticipation of what might come next.

Isaac chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, it's definitely a challenge," he said, his gaze flicking between you and Arthur. "But one I'm sure we're all more than up for." Isaac leaned back in his chair, his gaze intense. "So," he said, his voice a low growl that had your stomach flipping. "Ready for round two?"

*****

A week Later…

In the living room of their apartment, George, Chris, and Arthur Hill had gathered around the tv, their eyes glued to the screen, to watch the latest episode of their friends podcast, and today's episode had definitely been the steamiest yet. As the final words of the podcast faded out, they all exchanged knowing glances.

"Well, that was… something," George said, raising an eyebrow.

Chris leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "They totally had a threesome," he exclaimed, pointing at the TV. "You can just tell by the way they're acting."

Arthur Hill nodded, his mouth hanging open slightly. "I know, right? Did you see the way they couldn't keep their hands off each other?" He grabbed the remote, pausing the video to replay a particularly telling moment. "Look at Arthur's face!"

Chris and George leaned in, watching the replay with rapt attention. The blush on Arthur's cheeks was unmistakable, as was the way his hand had tightened around yours. "They're totally hiding something," Chris murmured, his own cheeks coloring slightly.

"Come on, guys," George protested, though his eyes were twinkling with amusement. "They're just good friends having fun." But even as he said it, he couldn't help but look at Arthur with newfound curiosity. They had to admit, the situation was ripe for speculation.

Chris grinned, not missing a beat. "Yeah, but you know Arthur. He gets all nervous and flustered in social situations. Remember that time at the charity gala?" He giggled, recalling a particularly awkward moment.

"Oh, God, yes," George chimed in, chuckling. "He couldn't even hold eye contact with the caterer."

But Arthur Hill's expression grew more thoughtful, his gaze lingering on the frozen image of Arthur's flushed face. "It's true, he does get nervous, but this is… different." He paused, his thumb hovering over the play button. "It's like he's trying to hide something, and not just because he's shy."

Chris leaned back, his eyes narrowed in contemplation. "You think it's possible?"

Arthur Hill nodded slowly. "I mean, they're all adults. And let's face it, the tension between them has been off the charts lately." He turned to George, who was watching the TV with a knowing smile. "What do you think?"

George shrugged, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, if they did, it would explain a lot," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "The way they look at each other, the way they can't seem to keep their hands to themselves…"

Chris's eyes widened. "Do you think they're into that sort of thing?" he whispered, his voice a mix of shock and fascination.

Arthur Hill nodded again, his gaze still on the screen. "It's not completely out of the question," he said thoughtfully. "They're both so… open-minded."

Chris leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "But what if it's true?" His eyes darted between George and Arthur Hill, his curiosity piqued. "What would we do?"

George's smile grew wider. "Well, we'd definitely have to get the full story out of them," he said, his tone playful. "It's not every day your friends have a secret like that."

Chris nodded eagerly. "Yeah, and maybe we could, I don't know, set them up with someone to make it a foursome?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Arthur Hill rolled his eyes. "Just because you're lonely and single doesn't mean you need to live vicariously through them, Chris," he said, though his tone was light.

Chris pouted. "What? I'm just saying, if they're going to be doing all these… adventurous things, I wouldn't mind tagging along for the ride."

George laughed, slapping Chris on the back. "Don't worry, buddy. They're not going to leave you out of all the fun." He winked. "But maybe you should work on your own love life before you start crashing their parties."

Chris playfully shoved George away. "I'm just saying, if the opportunity arises…" His voice trailed off, and the three of them shared a knowing look.

The atmosphere in the apartment was charged with curiosity and a hint of excitement. They couldn't ignore the palpable chemistry that had been sizzling between the podcast hosts. It was clear that something had changed, something that went beyond friendship.

*****

"So, guys," George began, breaking the silence with a casual tone, "did anything…interesting happen recently?" His question hung in the air like a dare, a challenge for you to either confirm or deny their suspicions.

Arthur Hill leaned in, his eyes boring into yours. "You know, Arthur looked a bit… flustered during the podcast," he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. "And you two," he nodded at you and Isaac, "you couldn't keep your hands to yourselves."

Isaac chuckled, playing along. "What are you trying to say, Hill?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

You felt your heart race as the three of you locked eyes, the secret hanging in the air like a thick fog. You licked your lips, a smug smile playing on your face. "What do you think happened?" you asked, your voice a sultry whisper.

Isaac leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking to Arthur's hand, which was still clutching yours. "Well, you two seem pretty… cozy." His smile was a knowing one, a glint of challenge in his gaze.

You couldn't help but return the smirk, the heat from the podcast still simmering between the three of you. "What do you mean?" you asked, playing dumb.

Chris's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing. "You guys, seriously? Did you…" He trailed off, unable to find the words.

Arthur Hill leaned in, his gaze intense. "You can tell us," he urged, his voice low. "We're all friends here."

You felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of sharing your secret with them. The tension in the room was thick, and you knew that if you didn't say something soon, it would be impossible to contain. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the onslaught of questions and reactions that were sure to come.

"Well," you began, drawing out the word as you let go of Arthur's hand and leaned back into the couch, "it's not every day you get to live out your wildest fanfic fantasies."

Isaac barked out a laugh, his eyes gleaming. "You're telling me," he said, his voice low and rumbling with his own memories of the night.

Arthur Hill leaned back, his eyes wide with shock. "Wait, what?" he spluttered. "You guys actually…?"

You nodded, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "Oh, yes," you said, watching the color drain from Arthur's face. "It was quite the night."

George's eyes widened, his jaw dropping. "You had a threesome?" he squeaked, his voice high with excitement.

Chris's cheeks were now a bright shade of pink as he stared at the three of you. "Oh my God," he whispered, his hand flying to his mouth.

Arthur's eyes went wide with shock before he buried his face in his hands, a muffled groan escaping his lips. "This is so embarrassing," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

"What's the matter, Arthur?" you teased, your voice a sweet symphony of innocence. "You don't want everyone to know how much fun we had?"

Arthur's muffled groan grew louder, his face still buried in his hands. "This is so not what I signed up for," he muttered, his voice muffled by his palms.

You couldn't help but laugh, the situation too absurd to be anything but hilarious. "Oh, come on, Arthur," you coaxed, reaching out to pat his leg. "You know you had fun."

Isaac leaned over, his voice low and firm. "Babe, maybe you should ease up on him a bit," he murmured in your ear. His hand on your arm was a gentle but firm reminder of his words. You turned to look at him, his expression a mix of amusement and concern for his friend.

You bit your bottom lip, considering his words. "I'm just having a little fun," you protested, your eyes dancing with mischief. But you could see the point he was trying to make. Arthur was practically squirming in his seat, his embarrassment clear.

Isaac leaned closer, his voice a gentle command. "Let's keep some things private, yeah?" His hand squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. "We don't want to make him too uncomfortable."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken request. You leaned back into the couch, the thrill of the secret still humming through your veins. "Sorry, guys," Arthur mumbled from behind his hands. "I just… I didn't expect this."

George, Chris, and Arthur Hill sat in stunned silence for a moment, their eyes darting between you, Arthur, and Isaac. The air was thick with a mix of shock, curiosity, and a hint of arousal that you couldn't help but notice. Finally, George found his voice. "Well," he said, clearing his throat, "that's… that's quite the revelation."

Chris's eyes were wide as saucers, his mouth slightly agape. "I… I can't believe it," he stuttered, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. "I mean, I knew you guys had a… a certain chemistry, but…" His voice trailed off as he looked at Arthur, who was still hiding his face in his hands.

Arthur Hill was equally stunned, his expression a mix of disbelief and something akin to awe. "That's… that's crazy," he breathed. "But also… kind of hot?" He glanced around the room, gauging the others' reactions. "I mean, if you're all cool with it…"

Chris nodded, his eyes never leaving Arthur. "It's definitely… different," he murmured, his voice still tinged with excitement. "But if it makes you happy…"

George leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. "Well, I for one am not one to judge," he said, his eyes sparkling. "But I do have to admit, it's not every day you find out your friends are living out their fanfic fantasies."

Chris nodded, his cheeks still a delightful shade of pink. "Yeah, I mean, as long as everyone's happy and consensual, who are we to say anything?" His eyes darted to Arthur who was now peeking through his fingers, his face a picture of mortification.

"Thank you, guys," Isaac said, his voice sincere. "We appreciate you being cool about it."

Arthur finally lowered his hands, his cheeks still a deep shade of red. "It's not every day you wake up to find out your private life has become public podcast fodder," he mumbled, his voice laced with embarrassment.

You leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "It's okay, Arthur," you assured him, your voice soft and soothing. "They're our friends. They're not going to judge us."

*****

The room was still for a moment, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside. Then, slowly, the tension began to ease. Arthur took a deep breath and sat up, his cheeks still flushed but his gaze meeting yours with a newfound determination. "Okay," he said, his voice a little stronger. "Let's… let's just move on."

"So, who's up for a pint?" George suggested, trying to lighten the mood. The tension in the room dissipated like mist in the sun as everyone agreed. It was time to move on, at least for now.

The six of you piled into the cozy pub around the corner, the warm light spilling out onto the cobblestone street. The rich scent of beer and fried food filled the air, mingling with the laughter of the patrons. It was the kind of place where you could forget the world outside, and for a little while, you did.

As you sat at the worn wooden table, sipping on your pint, the conversation flowed easily, jumping from one topic to the next. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that the tension dissipated. It was as if the walls of the pub had absorbed the secret, leaving nothing but the comfort of good friends and the hum of conversation.

Arthur leaned in, his voice a little too loud for the intimate space. "So, are we going to read more of those…stories?" he asked, his cheeks still a hint of pink.

You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. "Oh, absolutely," you said, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "This is just the beginning of our journey."

Isaac's eyes lit up at your words, his hand sliding over yours on the table. "I like the sound of that," he murmured, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and good-natured ribbing, with Arthur slowly regaining his composure. As the night grew later, the pub's atmosphere grew more intimate, the lights dimming and the music taking on a sultrier tone. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation, knowing that the evening was far from over.

"You know," you said, leaning into Arthur, "this is only the beginning." Your voice was low and seductive, a promise of more to come.

Isaac's eyes glinted with excitement, his hand tightening around your own. "Yeah, we could make this a regular thing," he suggested, raising his glass for a toast. "To living our fanfic dreams."

The three of you clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing in the cozy pub. The others looked on, a mix of amusement and intrigue playing across their faces. It was clear that the cat was out of the bag, and now the question was, what would happen next?

*****

A/n: Omg!!! This took a lot of work but I loved how it turned out, hope you guys enjoy it! Thanks again to @g-xix for letting me use her imagine, definitely check her stuff out!

[arthurtvgf]

i am on my knees

[fiftyfiftyfinchy]

Things ArthurTV would do in a relationship <3 (Part 2)

Meticulously plans themed movie nights where you both dress up as characters and invite all your friends, but his costume is always hilariously underwhelming.

Writes you cheesy, handwritten notes and hides them in random places like your bag, shoes, or cereal box.

Gets overly invested in your favorite TV show, then bombards you with theories and plot predictions like he’s part of the writers’ room.

Invents a secret handshake that gets more ridiculous every time you do it, but insists it’s “our thing.”

Runs a ‘science experiment’ to find the best brands of tea, involving blind taste tests and spreadsheets.

Accidentally calls your parents ‘mate’ when he meets them and cringes about it for weeks afterward.

Creates a “Relationship Museum” folder on his phone filled with candid pictures of you, funny screenshots of your conversations, and inside jokes.

Acts like a tourist in your own city, insisting you both go to the most cliché spots and take cheesy photos together.

Freaks out when you’re sick, bringing you soup, tissues, and about twelve unnecessary over-the-counter remedies, taking your temperature each hour, googling how far away the nearest hospital is.

Does a dramatic reading of your text arguments (after you’ve made up) in silly voices to make you laugh.

Becomes unreasonably attached to a stuffed animal you win at a carnival, naming it and treating it like part of the family.

Casually drops ‘fun facts’ into everyday conversations, like, “Did you know that wombat poop is cube-shaped due to their unique digestive system?”—then gets defensive when you tell him you’re trying to eat. .

Insists on celebrating obscure holidays like National Pizza Day or World UFO Day with themed activities and matching outfits.

Attempts to learn a new hobby with you, but ends up making a mess (e.g., flour everywhere during a bread-making attempt).

Gets competitive during board games, accusing you of cheating in the most ridiculous ways, like “You rolled the dice too confidently.”

Leaves you voice notes of him narrating his day in the style of a nature documentary, with commentary like, “Here we see Arthur in his natural habitat: the kitchen, scavenging for snacks.”

Takes you stargazing, only to completely forget the picnic blanket but makes up for it by knowing the scientific names for constellations and the mythology behind them.

[insomniac4000]

Forever obsessed with the thought that George says Chris was his favourite Youtuber growing up. Now he's in every Chris video and lives with the man.

[turnersverse]

do yous fw beautiful cabin crew🌹 scarlett johansson💋💋 or mo??

[tmhdaylight]

i miss the early days of bach and arthur’s friendship when they were practically inseparable

[bloodhoundg4ng]

silly wrapped stuff whehe

chat i am on my GRIND 😈😈

and also podcast stuff teehee

[winterbearwithme]

omg idk if im just being dumb or what BUT WHEN DID ARTHUR CHANGE HIS YT @ TO ARTHUR FREDERICK AND NOT ARTHUR TV 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔

[georgesbach]

I know that this maybe a little too late but if anyone is/knows anyone selling a Bach and Arthur ticket for Manchester please let me know!

[iantojonesirl]

just decided to start watching the bch and arthur podcats and watched 3 hours in one sitting i cant go back to being obsessed with youtubers it never ends well but ajdjdkjahdkh i love them

[livvymd]

Starving for you. MDNI

you had barely made it through the door of your shared flat before his lips were on yours — all heat and hunger, like he had been holding back for hours on end. george backed you against the wall with a grunt, hands already roaming — face, shoulders, hips. going lower.

The makeout started messy. all teeth and tongues and breathless gasps. his lips we're fighting against yours like he'd been starving for days, and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. his hands fumbled with your waist once again, gripping like he needed to memorize the shape of you, like the thought of letting you go didn't exist. his tongue slid against yours with wet, desperate rhythm, slick and hot, tasting every inch of your mouth as if trying to drink you in.

he groaned low into the kiss, the sound vibrating against your lips, like he couldn't stop it — like the feel of you set something primal off in him. his hips rocked forward without rhythm, grinding into you through layers of of denim and cotton, rough and needy, like his body was already on autopilot, seeking out friction with a kind of shameless hunger.

you tugged on his hoodie — not gently, but with a clenched fist and trembling fingers, dragging him closer like gravity had suddenly intensified between you. each blind step toward the couch was frantic and clumsy, but neither of you cared. you stumbled together, mouths still fused, teeth occasionally knocking, fingers slipping under clothes, craving more skin, more heat.

when you collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and sweat, he didn’t hesitate — settling his weight over you, his thigh slotting between yours like it belonged there. he rocked against you slow, deliberate, dragging the thick muscle of his leg against the clothed slick heat between your thighs, the pressure maddening. every movement made your breath hitch, and he felt it — groaned low in his throat like it spurred him on.

but then he stilled — just slightly — pulling back only far enough to rest his forehead against yours. his breath came in harsh, uneven bursts, lips parted like he’d just run a marathon, pupils blown wide and dark with want.

“i need to eat you out,” he rasped, voice wrecked with desperation. “let me. please. i've been thinking about it all fucking day. i’m going insane.”

you blinked up at him, dazed and throbbing, your whole body lit up and tense with want. his words didn’t feel rehearsed — they hit you raw, straight from his chest, hot and honest and filthy in that way only george could be.

“you’re begging?” you managed, your voice thinner than usual, but sharp with disbelief.

“yeah,” he said, instantly — not an ounce of shame in him. his eyes were wild, feverish. “i’d get on my knees and pray to your cunt if you asked me to. just say yes. please. i'll take such good care of you. let me take care of you.”

it struck you like a lightning bolt — obscene, reverent, hungry. your breath caught. the air was thick, electric between you, and your throat worked as you swallowed. you nodded — barely, shakily — but it was all he needed.

he moved like he’d been released from chains. dropped between your legs with a groan, like gravity yanked him down and he didn’t dare resist. his hands found your leggings and underwear and tore them down in one urgent, ungraceful pull, his fingers shaking slightly with how fast he needed you bare.

you lifted your hips for him, every nerve ending on fire, and when he looked up — paused for just a second — his face was stricken with awe. his eyes drank you in like you were something sacred, a living altar he’d dreamt of kneeling before. his mouth parted slightly, lips pink and damp, and he just looked, breath catching like the sight alone had knocked it from him.

“fuck...” he whispered, breath ghosting over your skin, voice already wrecked beyond repair. “you’re so wet already.” his nose brushed the inside of your thigh as he inhaled, slow and unashamed, like he was savoring it. “did i do that? hust from kissing you?”

you smirked, lips parting to deliver something cocky — a tease, something smug and sharp — but then his tongue met you.

one long, deliberate stroke from base to clit, and everything inside you snapped. yhe breath tore out of your lungs like a gut-punch.

he moaned — deep, guttural, like the taste of you was everything he’d been craving and didn’t dare believe he’d actually get. it vibrated through you, the sound of him already lost in it, like he’d just been handed divinity. and the way his mouth moved... it wasn’t tender. it wasn’t gentle. It was delirious. worship, yes — but the kind done on bloodied knees, desperate and filthy and raw.

your hands flew to his hair before you even realized, fingers tangling in the mess of it, gripping like you needed something to hold onto. you tugged, hard — and he groaned, loud against you, into you, the sound half-lust, half-gratitude. he liked it. fuck, he loved it.

then his tongue flattened against your clit and dragged — slow at first, letting you feel every velvet inch of it — before speeding up, circling, then flicking with maddening precision. his rhythm was erratic in the way only a man obsessed could manage — too hungry to be calculated, too skilled to be clumsy. your thighs started to tremble, and he didn’t let up for a second.

“fuck, george — ”

you gasped his name like it was the only thing keeping you grounded, your hips already twitching beneath him.

he hummed in response, mouth still sealed to you — like he could speak through vibration alone, and the message was clear: don’t stop, don’t think, just fall apart for me.

two fingers slipped between your folds, slick and hot, teasing your entrance. he didn’t rush — just pushed in with devastating ease, the stretch making your back arch instantly. you could feel the smirk in the way he moaned, deep in his throat, shameless.

your hips rolled against his face on instinct — seeking more pressure, more friction, more everythi —

and then he lost it.

something in him snapped — maybe it was the sound you made, or the way your hips rolled, just barely out of his reach — and suddenly his hands were gripping your thighs with bruising intensity, dragging you flush to his mouth with a growl that sent a bolt of heat through your spine.

“yeah,” he rasped, voice gravelled and soaked in lust. "ride my face. fuck yourself on me. please.

your hips jolted, instinctive and hungry. “you want that?”

he looked up at you, eyes blown wide, pupils eclipsing the color, lips shiny and slick with you. he looked unholy like that — ruined and reverent at the same time.

“i want you to fucking use me,” he said, without hesitation. “sit on my face if you want — i’ll take it. i need it.”

that was all the permission you needed. you grabbed a cushion, heart hammering, limbs shaky, and repositioned yourself, straddling his chest as he laid back eagerly, the heat in his gaze dragging over your body like a touch. you climbed over him, one leg at a time, until your thighs framed his face and his hands were back on your hips, urgent and trembling.

the second you sank down, he moaned — loud — and his tongue was right there, sliding up into you like it had missed you, like the few seconds without your heat had been too long to bear.

and this time, you were in control.

you rocked against him, slow at first, drawing tight little circles with your hips, feeling everything — the deliberate drag of his tongue, the way he licked like he was starving, the way every moan vibrated through his mouth into your cunt. ge let you ride him, no resistance — just open-mouthed devotion, his nose nudging your clit with every grind, his jaw tilting to meet your rhythm like it was sacred choreography.

“mmmf — fuck, that’s it,” he slurred beneath you, almost delirious. “ride me, baby. take what you need.”

you looked down, and the sight nearly undid you. he was a mess — flushed to his ears, eyes fluttering half-shut, mouth open and wet, tongue straining out for more like he couldn’t breathe without you. his cheeks were streaked with your slick, his hair wild from your fingers, and he looked like he loved it — like this was all he ever wanted.

you didn’t let up.

you rode him — harder, faster, grinding down with reckless abandon, chasing your own release, and he took it. hands digging into your hips, pulling you down with every roll, sucking and licking like he was getting high off the taste of you. the wet sounds were obscene, echoing off the walls, filthy and slick and so fucking hot.

your thighs started to shake, muscles twitching. you were panting, incoherent, nails dragging through his hair, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left in the world.

“george — oh my — i’m gonna cum — ”

he moaned into you, loud and shameless, tongue flattening and flicking with purpose. his hands held you tighter, grounding you to his face as you shattered — hips stuttering, back arching, mouth falling open on a wordless cry.

and he didn’t stop.

he licked you through it, even as your legs trembled and your body tried to twist away. he held you down like he needed to feel every last pulse of it against his mouth, every quake of your thighs, every twitch of your overstimulated cunt.

“sensitive — fuck, george — ”

but he didn’t care.

he was so pussy-drunk, lost in it, moaning and humming with his eyes squeezed shut and his lips wrapped around your clit like he could live there.

“can’t stop,” he mumbled into you, voice low and hoarse. “not done. gimme another. wanna feel you shake again.”

you cried out, hips jerking, your whole body molten and overstimulated and soaked, but he kept going — tongue flicking, circling, lips sucking, nose pressed against you with such greedy focus that you couldn’t escape, even if you wanted to.

and then the second orgasm crashed into you — sharper, deeper — your vision blurred out in white static, your legs locked around his head, and you screamed, because it was too much and not enough and somehow perfect.

he groaned into you again, tongue relentless, lapping up every twitch, every drop, like he was starving for it. like he could keep doing this until you were ruined entirely.

and maybe he would have.

but eventually you collapsed to the side, boneless and gasping, your body too wrecked to keep going. he followed, lazy and content, chin glistening, lips red and swollen, eyes hazy with satisfaction.

you looked at him, your breath shaky, everything trembling, and whispered, “You good?”

he grinned, soft and ruined, and leaned in to kiss your thigh, slow and reverent.

“i’ve never been better.”

eventually, he peeled himself off the couch, muscles trembling slightly, face still slick and flushed with satisfaction. but instead of fully retreating, he shifted — crawling lazily toward you like a big, tired cat, and then collapsed again, this time with his head resting heavy on your thigh.

his cheek pressed into your skin, still warm and trembling beneath him, and he looked up at you — pupils still blown, hair a mess, lips swollen from everything he’d just done to you.

“can we go again?” he asked, voice low and hoarse, but somehow boyish too — as if he didn’t just worship your cunt like it was the only religion he believed in.

you blinked down at him, breath still uneven, your body barely pieced back together.

“oh my god, george.”

he grinned — lazy, unbothered, completely ruined and smug about it. one of his hands found your knee, fingertips dragging slow, absent minded circles against your skin.

“what?” he murmured, tilting his head just enough to press a kiss to your thigh, lips soft but still hungry. “uou taste too good. i wasn’t done. thought i could make you cum again. or five more times.”

you groaned, somewhere between flustered and turned on all over again.

his smile widened like he knew.

“say yes,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. “i’ll be good. i'll be so good.”

you knew you were in for a long night.

[whereforarthur]

Love at First Podcast

Request: oh one where your a recent new youtuber who’s grown really fast and you get on bach’s and arthur podcast and arthur thinks you’re pretty and is instally his types when he finds out your interests are like his, like his cute like intrested in shark facts and playing chess <33

Pairing: ArthurTv x Youtuber!Reader

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

*****

“Falling in love is very real, but I used to shake my head when people talked about soul mates, poor deluded individuals grasping at some supernatural ideal not intended for mortals but sounded pretty in a poetry book. Then, we met, and everything changed, the cynic has become the converted, the sceptic, an ardent zealot.” ― E.A. Bucchianeri

"Alright, love, you're on in three, two, one..."

The countdown echoed in my ear, and my heart skipped a beat as the podcast host's voice grew distant. I, Y/n, a London-based YouTuber with a burgeoning audience, had scored a guest spot on "The Bach and Arthur Podcast," a podcast hosted by none other than ItalianBach and ArthurTv. Known for their charismatic banter and intellectual discussions, the duo had stumbled upon my channel during a late-night scroll and had been asked by their viewers to have me on as a guest, thinking that me and Arthur would get along.

Arthur's husky voice resonated through the airwaves, "Welcome to the podcast, Y/n. We're thrilled to have you with us today."

My voice quivered slightly as I replied, "Thanks for having me, guys. I'm a bit nervous, to be honest."

"Don't worry," Isaac assured me with a chuckle, "We're just here to have a good chat."

The conversation flowed easily as we discussed various topics, from the latest YouTube drama to our favorite hobbies. It was when we touched on shark facts that Arthur's interest seemed to peak. His eyes lit up, and his enthusiasm was palpable even through the microphone.

"Oh, you're into sharks, are you?" Arthur's voice was a warm cup of tea on a rainy afternoon, comforting and inviting. "I've always been fascinated by those majestic creatures. Did you know that the average human is more likely to be killed by a falling coconut than a shark?"

My mind raced as I tried to keep up with Arthur's sudden barrage of facts. It was clear he had a deep love for these predators of the deep, and I couldn't help but be charmed by his passion. As we delved further into the topic, I found myself smiling more and more at his excitement. The way he spoke about sharks with such affection and admiration was like nothing I had ever heard before.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he listened to me share my favorite shark trivia. Inwardly, I was kicking myself for not preparing more. I hadn't expected to find someone as enamored with these creatures as I was, especially not a well-known YouTuber like him. It was like he had peeked into the secret corners of my soul and found the one thing that truly made me tick.

"So, Y/n," Arthur began, his tone smooth and curious, "What sparked your interest in sharks?"

I took a deep breath, ready to dive into my lifelong obsession. "Well, it all started when I was a kid. My granddad used to take me to the aquarium every summer. There was this massive shark tank, and I was just captivated by them. They're so misunderstood, you know? They're not mindless killers, they're just doing their thing in the ocean, keeping the ecosystem in check."

Arthur nodded eagerly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Absolutely. And what's your favorite species?"

The question caught me off guard, but I replied without hesitation, "The thresher shark. They're so elegant with their long tails. It's like watching a ballet dancer underwater."

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise, and a grin spread across his face. "Thresher sharks? That's a unique choice. They're quite fascinating indeed."

*****

In the midst of our shared enthusiasm, Arthur's thoughts veered inward. He couldn't believe the person he was talking to was not only beautiful but also shared his obscure interest in sharks. It was like finding a unicorn in a bustling London street. He had always appreciated a good-looking person, but to find someone as pretty as Y/n who also loved the same quirky things he did? It was almost too good to be true.

Isaac, ever the observant one, couldn't help but tease his friend. "Arthur, it seems like you've found your soulmate here," he said with a smirk, interrupting our shark-filled discussion. "The only thing that would make this better is if she was into chess too."

The room grew quiet for a moment as Arthur's cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink. "Well, as it happens," I began, a playful smile forming on my lips, "I've been playing chess since I was eight. My dad taught me, and it's been a bit of a family tradition."

Arthur's jaw practically dropped. "No way," he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and excitement. "That's incredible. I've been playing since I was about the same age."

The energy in the room shifted as the three of us swapped stories about our chess triumphs and defeats. Arthur's passion was contagious, and before I knew it, I was sharing tales of late-night tournaments and the thrill of capturing a king with an unexpected move. His eyes lit up with every detail, and I felt a flutter in my stomach as his gaze held mine, as if we were the only two people in the room.

Isaac couldn't resist the urge to stir the pot further. "So, Arthur," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, "are you going to challenge our shark-loving, chess prodigy to a match?"

The tension in the room thickened as Arthur's cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. "Well, I wouldn't want to impose, but if Y/n is up for it, I'd be more than happy to have a friendly game."

Isaac couldn't contain his laughter. "Oh, come on, Arthur. You're practically drooling over the board at the thought of it."

I blushed, a little overwhelmed by Arthur's intense stare but also thrilled by the challenge. "I'd love to," I said, trying to sound casual despite the racing of my heart.

Isaac leaned back in his chair, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Well, it looks like we've got ourselves a date, folks. Arthur, you're on."

*****

The podcast went on, but the underlying tension between Arthur and I was unmistakable. Our shared passions had created a connection that neither of us had anticipated. The conversation shifted to other topics, but my mind kept wandering back to the thought of our upcoming chess match. Would it be a friendly game, or would the competition heat up?

Arthur's eyes met mine, and I felt a jolt of excitement. He was more than just a handsome face; he had a sharp intellect and a quirky charm that was hard to resist. As the podcast wound down, the nervousness I felt earlier had transformed into a thrilling anticipation of what lay ahead. His smile was disarming, and the way his hair fell over his forehead made my pulse quicken. I found myself trying to imagine what it would be like to sit across from him, each of us plotting our next move on the chessboard.

The podcast concluded with a flurry of thank yous and promises to keep in touch. After we signed off, Arthur turned to me, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, when do you think we should have this chess showdown?"

I laughed, feeling the same thrill he did. "How about this weekend? We could meet up at a café in the city, somewhere with a decent table and a relaxed atmosphere."

He nodded eagerly. "Perfect. I know just the place. It's a little hidden gem, great for a quiet game and a cup of tea."

The days leading up to the weekend felt like an eternity. I found myself replaying our conversation in my head, analyzing every word, every smile, every gesture. It was more than just a chess game; it was a chance to get to know Arthur better, to explore the depths of his personality as we navigated the strategic dance of pawns and rooks.

When the day finally arrived, I walked into the café with a mix of excitement and nerves. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and the soft murmur of chatter created a cozy backdrop for our battle of wits. Arthur was already there, setting up the board with meticulous care. He looked up as I approached, his smile warm and welcoming.

"You found it," he said, standing to greet me. He pulled out a chair, and as I sat down, I noticed the way his hand lingered on the back of mine for a brief moment. It sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same connection I did.

We began our game, the pieces moving with a rhythm that felt almost like a dance. Arthur's eyes never left the board, his focus unwavering as he considered each move. I watched his expressions shift, the intensity in his gaze as he tried to outthink me. His hands, strong and sure, caressed the pieces with a gentle touch that was surprisingly tender.

As the game progressed, the tension grew. We both knew we were evenly matched, and every move was a delicate balance of aggression and defense. The café around us faded away, and it was just us and the chessboard. Our conversation grew more personal as we shared stories from our childhoods, our families, and the moments that had shaped us into the people we were today.

When Arthur finally claimed victory, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. But as he leaned back in his chair and offered his hand for a congratulatory shake, the look in his eyes told me that the real prize was the connection we had formed over the last few hours.

"Rematch?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

I smiled, placing my hand in his. "Always."

*****

The crowd in the café applauded our game, and as we packed up the chessboard, I felt a new chapter in my life unfolding. Arthur and I had found common ground in the most unexpected of places, and I knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful friendship—or perhaps something more.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of chess games and shared moments. We discovered more about each other with every pawn that was sacrificed and every king that was checkmated. Our friendship grew stronger, and our bond deepened as we learned to read each other's moves both on and off the board.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the London skyline, casting a warm glow through the café windows, Arthur reached across the table and took my hand. His eyes searched mine, and I knew what was coming.

"Y/n," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "I can't believe I've found someone who understands me like you do."

My heart raced as I looked into his eyes, feeling the same vulnerability he did. "I know," I whispered. "It's like we're two lost souls who found each other in the most unlikely of places."

He leaned in, and our lips met in a soft, lingering kiss that seemed to hold all the promise of the future. The chessboard was forgotten as we realized that sometimes, the most beautiful connections are found in the most unexpected places. Our love for sharks and chess had brought us together, but it was our shared passion for life and the quiet moments between the moves that would keep us together.

As we pulled apart, Arthur took a deep breath and smiled. "Ready for the next game?"

I grinned back at him, feeling more alive than I had in years. "Always."

*****

@gvf23

@xxkatxgracexx

[arthurtvgf]

sometimes i consider writing fanfic but i have so little imagination whatsoever it would flop

[fiftyfiftyfinchy]

me tryna convince all my friends to be in love with all the same men so we can be delusional together

[insomniac4000]

Oooo new studio